The faint scrape of a sword being drawn brought Kenshin instantly awake out of a deep sleep, already rolling off the futon. His hand closed on empty air where his sword should have been and he snatched it back, accelerating, triangulating the sound (downstairs, kitchen) as he moved. He was on his feet, two quick steps, and his fingers stopped an inch from the sliding door. He could hear voices now from downstairs. They were too faint to make out the words, but the tone was calm. He stepped to one side and pressed his back lightly against the interior wall, the door on his right, and waited.
"Isn't the blade supposed to be on the curved side?" Akane reached out and ran a finger along the blunt convex edge of the naked sword in Shinichiro's hand.
"It's a sakabatou. Reverse-bladed." Shinichiro looked up, incomprehension on his face. "I don't understand. A sword like this is useless. Why would Battousai-- why would ANYONE carry a sword like this?"
"Well?" Hideki peered at the blade. "Has it been used recently?"
"Used? For what?" Shinichiro scoffed. "No, the blade is clean, no trace of blood. It doesn't even look like it's been used at all; see, the blade's like new, no chips or nicks in it."
"All right then," Akane cut in. "He stays. At least for tonight. And I'm putting this back." She reached for the sword. Shinichiro started to protest, but she held out a hand. "This way he won't know that we know. And right now I doubt he could make it down the stairs without help, let alone slash anyone."
Shinichiro held her eyes for a long moment, then sheathed the sword in a quick motion and handed it over. "I'm not happy about this. But it's your house."
Akane eased the sliding door open just wide enough to slip through and stepped into the darkened room, the sheathed sword in one hand, her socks silent on the tatami. She could just see the small stack of Kenshin's clothes next to the futon --
The futon was empty. Akane whirled around.
All she could see were his eyes, narrowed and gleaming, throwing back the dim yellow lamplight that streamed in from the hall.
Then the moment passed, he moved a little, or her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she could see him properly, draped in the too-big yukata and leaning heavily against the wall, his eyes that odd shade of blue-violet, his face pale and tired. She blew out the breath she'd been holding and glanced down at the sword in her hands.
"Sumimasen," she said, her voice formal. "I've done something very rude."
"Akane-dono. Is everything all right?" He was watching her, wary and anxious, still leaning on the wall.
Fine, she thought, everything's fine, go back to bed, Kenshin. But that first sight of his eyes had frightened her, made her doubt her own earlier impressions, and Shinichiro's words flooded back into her mind. She felt like she was falling.
"Shinichiro told us," she said, her voice flat and cold, her eyes locked on Kenshin's face. "About a swordsman he saw once in Kyoto, with red hair and a cross-shaped scar on his cheek."
She saw the light die in Kenshin's eyes, a moment before he dropped them to the floor. He drew in on himself, his earlier wariness stilling into nothing.
"Sumimasen. I did not intend to misuse your kindness, that I didn't." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Please allow a moment to get dressed, and then I will leave, that I will."
Akane startled. This was not what she had expected. Dark and rain and wind flashed through her mind.
Kenshin pushed himself up off the wall, unsteady, taking a moment to find his balance, and stepped towards the futon.
Oh, no. "Kenshin..."
He didn't look at her. He reached down for his clothing.
"NO!!" she shouted, startling herself, and grabbed his wrist. Kenshin looked up suddenly, at last, his eyes wide with surprise, pulling back against her grip. She squeezed tighter, feeling his wrist bones sticking out under hot damp skin. She lowered her voice, speaking through clenched teeth: "I'm not sending you out there to freeze to death-"
At that moment many things happened at once. The door banged open and Hideki and Shinichiro rushed in, shouting, the lanterns in their hands casting the room into sudden brightness, revealing Akane half-lunging with the sword in one hand and Kenshin's arm in the other.
"Akane!" Hideki shouted desperately.
"Don't let him get the sword!" Shinichiro yelled simultaneously.
Kenshin jerked back again at the same time that Akane, startled, let go of his wrist, sending him sprawling backwards to bang his head against the wall. Shinichiro rushed past her, jumped over the futon and dropped into a fighting stance over Kenshin, a kitchen knife in one hand, slamming the lantern down abruptly onto the floor.
"Don't move, Battousai," he growled, as Kenshin started to sit up.
Hideki was holding his sister by the shoulders, talking fast, as she talked over him, both their voices rising.
"Akane, nee-chan, it's too dangerous, I don't want something terrible to happen!"
"No. No. He's ill and it's pouring out. I'm not sending him out there!"
Hideki had one hand on the sword now. "Even if it's reverse-bladed it can still cut! All he has to do is turn it over!" He yanked the sword out of its sheath.
Kenshin jumped to his feet, started to lunge forward, but Shinichiro spun around and grabbed him from behind, yanking him backward and shouting "I said don't MOVE!"
Everything stopped.
Akane stood facing Shinichiro, wide-eyed, her knuckles gone white on the sheath. Hideki was half-turned, looking at Shinichiro over his shoulder, the sword in one hand, its tip trailing on the tatami. Kenshin had gone very still, his eyes closed, the back of his head pressed against Shinichiro's collarbone and his bare toes just touching the floor, one hand half-raised toward Shinichiro's arm clamped across his chest. The tip of Shinichiro's knife was pressed against his throat.
A drop of blood welled up, and tracked its way down Kenshin's neck, and soaked into the hem of his yukata. No one moved.
It was Eri who broke the silence, Eri standing in the doorway with her gray eyes huge and both hands over her mouth, who had followed the two men up from the kitchen after hearing Akane shout.
"Stop," she said in a strangled voice. "Shinichiro, stop. Please. Don't kill him."
Shinichiro wavered for a moment, watching Eri's eyes, then glanced down at the knife. He dropped Kenshin suddenly and sprang back. Kenshin stumbled forward, tripped on the futon and went sprawling.
Shinichiro was staring at the blood on the knife in his hand, his eyes wide. His eyes flicked to Kenshin, to Eri, then again to Kenshin on the floor.
Akane came to her senses with a start. She handed the sheath to Hideki. "Put it away."
Hideki sheathed the sword, awkwardly, shuffling backwards towards the door.
Akane turned to Shinichiro. "Shinichiro. Give me the knife." She held his eyes, and after a moment's hesitation, he handed it to her. "Good. Thank you. Hideki-- take him downstairs and stay there."
Shinichiro moved hesitantly, around the very edge of the room, staying as far as possible from Kenshin. When the two men had gone out into the hallway, Eri turned to follow them, but Akane called her back.
"Eri, wait a minute." Akane laid a hand on her friend's arm and glanced out the doorway. The men were heading down the stairs. "Can you run and bring me the first-aid kit? It's in the top cupboard next to the stove." She kept her voice soft and calm.
Eri nodded. There were tears in her eyes.
"And get the sword from Hideki. Put it in my bedroom."
Eri nodded again and slipped off silently.
Akane stashed the knife in the corner next to the door and turned finally to Kenshin. He'd gotten to his knees, but still seemed to be curled up somehow, making himself as small and unobtrusive as possible. He was watching her quietly from behind his bangs, his expression unreadable. Good, she thought, one less person in hysterics.
She started towards him. He was trembling-- No. He was shivering. Before she could say anything his eyes flicked downwards, and he spoke quickly and quietly.
"Akane-dono. I've caused you nothing but trouble. My well-being is not your responsibility. Leave or stay, I'll do whatever you tell me, that I will." He waited, eyes still lowered.
Eri returned just then with a large lacquered box. Akane looked up and took it from her.
"Thanks," Akane told her quietly. "Shinichiro's okay?"
Eri shrugged. She'd regained her composure somewhat, but still looked pale and frightened.
"Ask Hideki to walk you both home if you want. I'll be fine here. And Eri-- take care. Things will be all right." She gave her a quick one-armed hug.
"I will. Thank you, Akane." She smiled wanly, and left.
Akane turned back to Kenshin. He hadn't moved, his eyes still on the floor, politely averted from their conversation. "All right," she said. "Let me take a look at that cut."
Kenshin lifted his chin, stil avoiding her eyes, and she dabbed at the blood on his neck with some cotton wool. It was a small cut, shallow, and had already stopped bleeding. On herself she wouldn't have bothered bandaging it, but she took some all-purpose salve from the box and smeared it over the cut anyway.
"My apologies for getting blood on your yukata," Kenshin said when she'd stopped to rummage in the box again.
"No. I should be the one to apologize, for allowing you to be injured under my roof." She stuck on a bandage. "There."
Kenshin lowered his head, blinking, and took a couple of deep breaths. It occured to Akane suddenly that he was putting a lot of effort into keeping his composure. He was shivering again, too. No way would she let him go out in that condition.
"Now, I want you to sleep here. I give you my word that you'll not be disturbed again tonight. Will you do that?"
He met her eyes, finally, looking apprehensive. "Are you sure-"
"I'm telling you to stay!"
Kenshin flinched. "All right! All right. If that's what you want."
She sighed, getting to her feet, the box in one hand. "Kenshin, I honestly don't care who you used to be. And by rights, I should return your sword. But I know that Shinichiro's going to ask my brother to spend the night here to look after me, and for his peace of mind I'd like to keep hold of it. Will you accept that?"
Kenshin's apprehension had transformed into amazement as she spoke. "Of course," he said.
"Good." She picked up the lantern, retrieved the knife, and paused in the doorway. "Oyasumi nasai."
"Thank you," Kenshin breathed. "For everything."
Akane leaned on the sink and swore. Damn it. The whole evening had gone incredibly badly.
After leaving Kenshin she'd stopped by her bedroom and picked up the sword, then come down to the kitchen to finish the washing-up. Including the knife. (Damn it, why did Shinichiro have to pick that up?) She sighed. Well, things would look better in the morning. She felt bad for Eri especially.
She heard footsteps outside the door. That would be Hideki.
He came in soaked from the waist down and damp from the waist up, shaking out the umbrella. "Um, nee-chan, I'd better spend the night here with you, if you don't mind, you know, in case anything happens." He spotted the sword leaning by the sink, and looked relieved.
Akane smiled. "Of course."
